Элизабет Джордж Спир - The Witch of Blackbird Pond / Ведьма с пруда Черных Дроздов. 10-11 классы
“Were there no women to care for you?”
“Oh, there were slaves of course. I had a black maid. But I never needed anyone but Grandfather.” Kit remembered her Grandfather: his fine cheekbones, his thin aristocratic nose, and his loving eyes.
“It must have been hard to lose him,” said John gently. “I am so glad you have an aunt here. I’m sure she will be very happy to see you.”
“She was my mother’s only sister,” said Kit. “Grandfather said that my mother missed her very much. Her name is Rachel, and Grandfather said that she was beautiful. My mother remembered that she was always laughing. But she fell in love with a Puritan and ran away to America. She wrote to my mother from Wethersfield, and she has written a letter to me every year of my life.”
John Holbrook looked at Kit. “That was many years ago,” he told her. “Don’t forget that your aunt has been away from England for a long time.”
Kit felt that it was another warning which she could not yet understand. Later that hot afternoon Nat walked over to her where she stood on the deck looking at the river.
“How I would love,” she said. “To get into that water and away from this filthy ship!”
Nat’s blue eyes darkened. “Filthy – the Dolphin?”
“Oh,” she laughed, “You know, that stable smell!”
“Maybe you think it would smell better with a hold full of human bodies in chains, half of them almost dead?”
Kit was shocked. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t you have slaves on Barbados?”
“Of course we have. We used to own more than a hundred to work the plantation.”
“How did you think they got there? Did you think they traveled from Africa in private cabins like yours?”
She had never thought about it. “But don’t you have slaves in America?”
“Yes, to our shame! But we, Eatons, we’re very proud that our ship has never had any slaves in its hold!” With these words Nat was gone again. What a temper! She insulted his precious ship. They almost made friends again, but now he will probably not speak to her for the rest of the trip. And why should she care? He is just a rude sailor!
But even John Holbrook didn’t approve of her now. She shocked him last night when she took his book, opened it at the marked page, and read a boring passage aloud. “Is this what you read all day long?”
John was staring at her. “You can read that?” he asked, amazed. “How did you learn to read?”
“I don’t even remember how I learned. Grandfather sometimes took me into his library where it was dark and cool, and read to me aloud from his books, and later I would sit beside him and read to myself while he studied.”
“What books?” John asked doubtfully.
“Oh, history, and poetry, and plays.”
“Plays! Your grandfather allowed a girl to read such things?”
“Yes. Wonderful plays by Shakespeare, for example. They were beautiful! Haven’t you read them?”
John’s cheeks reddened. “There are no such books in Saybrook. The right use of reading is to improve our sinful nature and to fill our minds with God’s holy words.”
Kit stared at him. She remembered her Grandfather, and she knew that he hadn’t read his books to improve his sinful nature. John Holbrook’s words made her feel uncomfortable again.
* * *Early the next morning the Dolphin finally arrived at Wethersfield. The shore looked just like the forest they had seen for the past week. Her heart sank. So this was Wethersfield! Just a narrow sandy shoreline with a row of huge wooden warehouses, and beyond that – green fields and woods. No town, not a house. Only a few men and boys and two dogs had come to meet the boat. Kit watched Goodwife Cruff walk with her husband along the shore. Prudence, holding her mother’s hand, looked back.
“Bye, Prudence,” Kit shouted. “I hope to see you often!”
Goodwife Cruff stopped and looked at Kit. “Please leave my child alone! We do not welcome strangers in this town, especially the ones like you!” With these words she marched up the dirty road and disappeared in the fog. Even John Holbrook’s goodbyes were very formal, and he, too, walked away into the fog to meet his new teacher.
Then Kit saw Captain Eaton coming and knew that this was the moment to tell the truth.
“There must’ve been some mistake,” the captain said. “I am sure that your aunt and uncle will be here to meet you any time soon.”
Kit gathered her courage. “Captain Eaton,” she said quietly, “my uncle and aunt will not come to meet me. To be honest, they do not even know that I am here.”
The captain’s eyes widened with surprise. “Didn’t you tell me that they had sent for you to come?”
“I told you that they wanted me,” Kit corrected him. “Mistress Wood is my mother’s sister. Naturally, she would always want me to come.”
“But how could you be so sure that they were still in Connecticut?”
“My Aunt Rachel’s last letter came only six months ago.”
He frowned. “You know very well that I would never have taken you on board had I known this. Now I will have to waste my time trying to find where your uncle lives and taking you there.”
Kit’s cheeks turned red. What if Aunt Rachel – but there was no time for doubt now. She would hold her head high and meet her destiny.
Chapter Three
Kit, Nat, the captain and some sailors, carrying Kit’s trunks, walked along the dirty road. Her last hopes died: there was no fine town of Wethersfield – just a settlement more lonely than Saybrook. A man with a cow stopped to stare at them, and Captain Eaton asked him for directions. “High Street,” the man said, pointing to the right. “Matthew Wood’s place is the third house.”
High Street was just a narrow path. Kit saw that at least her uncle’s house looked respectable. The captain knocked hard on the massive door. The door opened and there was a thin, gray-haired woman. She looked like a servant, but the captain took off his hat and greeted her.
The woman looked at the girl, and her face suddenly turned white. “Margaret,” she whispered.
For a moment the two women stared at each other. Then Kit understood. “Aunt Rachel!” she cried. “It is Kit! I am Margaret’s daughter.”
“Kit? Katherine Tyler? I thought… Oh, my dear child, how wonderful!”
All at once there was warmth and happiness. Yes, this strange woman was really her Aunt Rachel!
Captain Eaton then started saying his goodbyes. “Well, I am glad that everything is well.”
“I’m sorry about all this trouble,” Kit said. “And I thank you, all of you.”
The captain had already started walking back along the road, but Nat still stood beside her. As their eyes met, something passed between them. “Remember,” he said softly. “Only the guilty ones swim.” And then he was gone too.
Through the doorway of Matthew Wood’s house Kit stepped into a great kitchen. “Matthew! Girls!” cried her aunt. “Something wonderful has happened! Here is Katherine Tyler, my sister Margaret’s girl, who has come all the way from Barbados!”
Three people stared at Kit from the dining table. Then a man stood up and came toward her. “You are welcome, Katherine,” he said gravely. There was no welcome in his dark eyes. From behind him a girl came. “This is your cousin Judith,” Kit’s aunt said. Judith’s face was so beautiful – clear white skin, blue eyes, black curly hair. “And your other cousin, Mercy.” The second girl came up more slowly, and at first Kit only saw her extraordinary clear gray eyes – the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. Then, as Mercy stepped forward, Kit noticed that she walked with crutches. “How lovely,” said Mercy, “to see you after all these years, Katherine! Have you had breakfast yet?”
“I am afraid not. And please call me Kit.”
“Then take off your coat and come close to the fire, my dear,” said her aunt.
“Oh!” Judith exclaimed. “You traveled in a dress like that?” Here in this plain room Kit’s beautiful dress seemed too elegant. The three other women were all wearing some simple gray gowns.
Then Judith saw Kit’s gloves. “They are so beautiful,” she whispered.
“Do you like them? I’ll give you some just like these, if you like. I have several pairs in my trunk.”
Meanwhile, Rachel Wood set a mug, a spoon and a simple wooden plate for Kit. “Tell us, Katherine, how you came so far. Did your grandfather come with you?” she asked.
“My grandfather died four months ago,” Kit explained.
“Oh, you poor child! All alone there on that island! Who came with you, then?”
“I came alone.”
“Oh, poor child!” her aunt cried. “Well, you’re safe here. Have some corn bread, my dear. It was baked yesterday, and there is butter.”
Kit was thirsty and lifted the mug, but then put it down again. “Is that water?” she asked politely.
“Of course. Fresh from the spring.”
Water for breakfast! But the bread was delicious. While Kit was eating, Rachel Wood was looking at her young face. Her eyes filled with tears. “You look so like my sister.”
Matthew Wood had not sat down at the table with the others. What did this kind woman find in that grave silent man? Was he so handsome? Uncle Matthew had said nothing, but Kit understood that he had been watching her very carefully. Now he put on a leather jacket and prepared to leave. “I will be working in the south meadow till sundown,” he told his wife.
At the open door, however, he stopped and looked at Kit’s baggage. “What is all this?” he asked coldly.
“Oh,” said Kit. “Those are my trunks.”
“Yours? Seven trunks? What can be in them?”
“Well, my clothes and some things of Grandfather’s.”
“Seven trunks of clothes, all the way from Barbados, just for a visit?”
The room became suddenly cold and quiet. “I have not come for a visit, sir,” Kit managed to answer. “I have come to stay with you.”
Rachel gasped. Matthew Wood closed the door and came back to the table. “Then why did you not write to us first?” he asked.
“I was afraid that you might not ask me to come, and I had to come,” Kit said.
“We wouldn’t have said no,” said her uncle. “But a step like this should not be taken thoughtlessly.”
“Matthew,” protested Rachel timidly, “we are the only family she has. Let us talk about it later. Now Katherine is tired, and your work is waiting for you.”
Matthew Wood took a chair and sat down heavily. “The work will have to wait,” he said. “It is best that we clear this matter now. How did you get on the ship all alone?”
“There was a ship in the harbor and they said it was from Connecticut. I should have sent a letter, I know, but it might have been months before another ship came. So instead of writing I decided to come myself.”
“You mean that, just on an impulse, you left your home and sailed almost across the world?”
“No, it was not an impulse. I really had no home to leave.”
“And what about your grandfather’s estate? As I know he was a wealthy man.”
“He was wealthy, once. But then he was ill for a long time and couldn’t manage the plantation. He left everything to an overseer who sold the whole crop and then disappeared. So after Grandfather died, there were just debts everywhere. I paid all of them. The land had to be sold, and the house and the slaves, and all the furniture from England. There wasn’t anything left.”
